Traditional Ink on paper + colorization and texture in Krita
Nocturius: In that series of ''The Bad Batch Season 1'' I decide to add the red dots of a squad leader like we saw on other republic commando. Because they are.
I had lot of fun working on Hunter. Doing a dynamic but simple pose. I used some cool reference about him and the commando concept art. That was nice to compare.
Hunter is thiner, smaller and more flexible than other commando AND reg. It show well in the ref. His armor are modified to accommodate him nicely. Showing us that delightful''slut waist'' for the greater good. Look at this. 👇
Of course my style tend to put a little more meat on those bois, making them a bit thicker than in the cartoon, but still, his belly armor/belt is just some sort of Katarn-class armor panty... Now folks you know that's why he is so cunty. Mystery solved. 👍
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry
Chapter Nineteen: The Kiss
Hunter wants to push you away when your lips meet his, he really does, and he really should. And he tried not to kiss you back, so much so that you pull away all too quickly, thinking you’ll see nothing on his face but anger. But his mouth follows you on its own volition, and you do not get far before he is reaching out and wrapping an arm around your waist to anchor you to him, and the other pushing your wet hair back.
You meet his intensity with a shocked noise and reciprocating in kind. Both of you chase one another, until you find a rhythm that works. You can feel his tongue on your bottom lip, ever so gently touching it and then pulling away like he’s crossed a line.
For all his hardened shields, Hunter is nothing but gentle on the inside.
“Fuck, beautiful girl,” Hunter whispers when you gasp for air, still holding you close enough to rest your forheads together. “You will be the death of me.” He mumbles, tilting your mouth towards him with a hand under your chin. You kiss him once more before telling Hunter;
“I’ll try not to be.” He hums against you at that, nosing his way into your neck so he can kiss there and hear you gasp and squeak again.
Behind you, someone clears their throat.
Embarrassment and shame at your blatant act floods you more so than the rain. Crosshair and Tech glare at Wrecker for making the noise and spoiling the entertainment moment.
“What?” Wrecker says, “they needed to stop eventually! I mean, come on, we're right here!” Your hands reach your mouth at his words, you cannot believe you just did that in front of them.
“I…” you start, shivering in the cold, looking at Crosshair’s smirk, Echo’s shock and Tech’s surprised face.
“You lot should be ashamed of yourselves.” Hunter says pointedly, turning such that it’s hard for the batch to catch a glimpse of you.
“She kissed you, in front of us.” Crosshair mentions defensively. Before rolling his eyes and heading back to their bunks, the other three not far behind him.
“That, that was so, that, was so, so…” You stammer, feeling ashamed, embarrassed and wondering what they must think of you now.
“Mesh’la, it is alright.” Hunter tells you, thumb moving over your cheek in a calming circle.
“They, what must they think of me? As if I am, I am some kind of scarlet…” Hunter cuts you off again with a small laugh.
“Aaray, you could sleep with anyone and everyone you wanted, and we would not think any less of you.” You stiffen at the mention of sleeping with someone, your prudish proper upbringing not used to this kind of non-shalontness. It makes Hunter chuckle again. “There is very little you could do to lose the respect we have for you.” Your worried eyes meet his sincere ones, and you watch as water travels down his tattoo.
“There are not many men who would share your sentiment.” You tell Hunter, jumping closer to him at the noise of thunder.
“I promise you, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech and Echo, would never think less of you for this.” He says firmly before adding: “Except have some serious questions about your taste in men.” That makes you smile, before looking behind you to ensure you’re alone, and pulling the sergeant down for another kiss.
The faint evidence of his facial hair growing in moves against your mouth as he does, and this kiss is far more wet thanks to the rain, it feels sloppy, hurried, like Hunter is finally giving in to the fact he can’t get enough of you.
Strong arms pull you flush against sturdy muscle. And he sighs in contentment against your lips because of the sharp intake of breath you gasp for when you connect chest to chest with him.
“Too much?” Hunter asks, you shake your head ‘no’. Putting both hands on his face to feel him, really ground yourself using your sergeant as the anchor. Fingers gently scratching at the hair on the back of his neck. But no matter what the rain has chilled you until you're shivering. “Let’s get you inside.” Hunter says, placing a kiss to your cheek.
You feel far more uneasy in the sergeants room than you ever have before. The soft candlelight flickers in the same way the lightning outside does. Hunter immediately takes his soaked shirt off. And he heads over to his bunk to gather a blanket to wrap around you.
“Hunter…” You start when you realize it’s the only blanket he has.
“It’ll dry.” He answers for you. wrapping you in the old material just to pull you close to him again.
“Can I ask a question?” You wonder aloud, craning your neck to see his facial expressions.
“Of course, Aaray, you can ask me anything.”
“Must I go to Mustafar? Can I not stay here? With you?” You ask softly, as if that helps the question to be less painful.
“You would never be safe, you would always be in danger. And I could not bear it if my selfishness caused you pain.” Hunter tells you. Thinking about all the options and all the ways to rid the galaxy of Volim nython.
“What if he died?” You ask as if you can read his thoughts. “What if he was dead, and couldn’t do us harm?” Hunter chuckles, and boldly presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“I admire your tenacity, but I fear you’ve been spending too much time with Crosshair and Wrecker.” Hunter tells you with a smile, when you sigh against him.
“You do not know that, perhaps i have always had a murderous tenacity about me.” You counter, with a playful frown. Hunter hums into your hair in agreement.
“Yes, I do seem to recall you trying to kill me just the other day.” You turn your head to the side so you can lean fully into him. Pressing your ear to his chest above his heart and listening to it beat against you.
“You seem to have recovered just fine.” You smile, hearing the strong and determined beat of his heart.
“I would not have said recovering at all was required, those shots were not even in the same parsec as myself.” Hunter leans his chin on you, still holding you close, such that he can feel your frown.
“Thanks to Echo I would wager I could hit you quite clearly now.” You retort.
“I best not upset you again then.” Hunter says, leaning back so that he can see you. And he tries to conceal the smile that comes of its own accord when he sees you.
Hair flat against your head with the weight of the water, the blanket draped over you which makes you seem smaller than before, and the flicker of your eyelids as you put more weight on the sergeant as you become drowsy.
Hunter cannot think of anyone he’d want here more than you.
Had he been a braver man, or a man more socialized into emotions, he would realize that this is love. Unfiltered, unabided, love. Had he thought about his thoughts more clearly Hunter would realize he would never look at someone the same way again, and that there is no replacement for you in all the galaxy.
How could he possibly let you go?
A question for the morning, he decides. Your eyelids are heavy, your body is cold, and so ever so carefully he leads you to his bed, hushes your protests, and promises not to disturb you.
You know he must not join you in his bed, that would be the end of any proper lady your parents had hoped you would become. Sleeping in a man's bed is fair from appropriate, to have him join you is another thing entirely. And yet, when he leaves you, it feels infinitely colder, lonelier, and like a piece of you is missing.
Hunter spends his time running through the motions, the sail ties, the anchor chains, and even trying to see through the clouds such that the stars could give him some direction as to where they were. But nothing will change that after a storm as bad as this, they’ll need to dock again for a proper inspection.
Watchful eyes see him pick up the captain's hat from the deck of the ship. Following as he brushes the excess water off to place it back on his head. They see him stand for a moment, as if he is reliving the moment before. How he glances towards his quarters where she must be resting. The longing look in his eyes. The spyglass telescope is marvelous for just such occasions. And as far as Colo Harik is concerned, whatever Embo is about to tell him and his team, is credits well spent.
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry
Chapter Twenty-two: The Prayer
You’re thrown to Harrik like a bag of potatoes, as if at the moment you are nothing but an inconvenience. His arm latches around your neck, putting steady pressure where you struggle. You claw at his arm but he’s wrapped in fine cloth and it feels impenetrable.
They’re going to do it, you can see Nython getting closer to the block. They are going to kill him.
You cannot help but cry.
From above you, a man screams as he is kicked off of the watchtower to the house. And with a calculated step on his foot, Harrik cringes backwards, making both of you lose your balance.
You can’t help the smile that forms when Echo salutes you with two fingers from above. Nython turns towards you craning his neck up.
It gives you plenty of time to drive Hunter's dagger into Harrik’s thigh.
Clone force 99 works simultaneously after that. Echo’s brief distraction allows for Tech to gain the upper hand while his guards backs are turned. And for the men surrounding Wrecker and Crosshair, Tech’s double pistols break clean through two sets of shackles, and even though they are unarmed, the odds quickly turn in their favor.
“Rifle!” Crosshair shouts to his brother, who reaches behind his shoulders to grasp and throw Crosshair his prized possession. For while Wrecker aids Tech on the ground, Crosshair takes stance to back up Echo on the ramparts
Volim Nython quickly abandons the captive Sergeant in favor of recapturing you.
Looking back at Harrik you’ve got no choice but to reach for the knife in his leg and pull it out. He exclaims in pain and clamps down on the wound to keep himself from bleeding out.
“Was he worth it?” Nython asks approaching you, completely unconcerned by the scared look in your eyes and the shaking dagger in your hands. “The rest of them could have lived.”
“Stay away from me.” You tell him, watching him draw his sword. You cannot fight against that, not with your measly dagger.
“I do not wish to harm you.” he promises edging closer.
“I don’t believe you.” You tell him. Stepping backwards in favor of putting as much space between the two of you as possible. And you try to recall everything Echo taught you when shooting a blaster. And you try to remember when you threw a knife at Tech, if there was any hope of hitting him. But then again, you do not need to hit Nython, you just need to get past him.
The knife flies without a second thought, and he eagerly dodges it, which gives you ample time to sprint past him.
Not out of the courtyard, not to Tech, Wrecker or Crosshair, not even back into the streets.
You make a beeline to Hunter. Boots digging into the cobblestone and scraping your knees as you drop to the ground in front of him.
“Get out of here.” He yells, as you begin to fiddle with the clasp pinning the blocks of wood together around his neck.
“Not without you!” You exclaim, and you swear you hear him scoff in astonished frustration. When you get the clasp undone you grab Hunter by the shoulders to drag him away from the makeshift guillotine block. Your boots lose grip on the stone, and when you fall you see Volim Nython righting himself.
A nasty scratch on his shoulder tells you your aim has improved. But his grip on your ankle is bruising as he drags you away from a newly freed Hunter, who, even still bound with his hands behind his back, rushes to your aid.
While you may not be a practiced fighter, the way you move in time with Hunter suggests that you two have been fighting as partners for some time. Your synchrony marvels that of fencing, every step of yours mirrors his. And at every opportunity Hunter’s bound hands are on your back, or your waist, guiding you as if it was a dance. As if you two have a secret that lets you move in time with one another. It’s almost as if it is fate, pulling puppet strings around the two of you.
As if there is something bigger than the two of you pulling your movements together.
It is enough to have Nython staggering backwards, and Harrik trying to limp towards him. And for a second, the injured Harrik and Nython falter. When you turn to stand up you see why.
Echo is standing in the archway into the building, clearly he and Crosshair have vacated the Ramparts. Echo walks towards the group whilst righting his blood stained shirt. Crosshair, Tech and Wrecker take up position behind you, and with one fluid movement, Wrecker puts his hands on the chain connecting Hunter’s wrists and yanks them apart. Harrik pales at the display of strength. Now all five of them stand behind you, a very obvious statement.
If you want her, you go through us.
In a massive lapse of judgment, Hunter steps forward, locking eyes with the man in question, daring him to move towards you, he turns his gaze to you.
“I missed you.” He says gently wrapping his arm around your waist. Oh so smug in the way your hands immediately wrap around his shoulders to reach up to his hair.
“Never do that to me again.” You tell him firmly. Watching as he chuckles lightly.
“I promise.” He says, before leaning down to place a single longing kiss on your lips. A massive ‘fuck you’ to the man across the courtyard.
“Are we not in the middle of something?” Crosshair seethes.
“And I don't recall hearing a ‘thank you’ either.” Echo points out. Hunter grunts in recognition, and turns his attention to Volim Nython.
“We are finished here. Leave us be, and you will not be troubled again.” It is a bargain, one Hunter cannot possibly think the man across the courtyard will take.
“If you think for one moment I will be upstaged by a group of degenerate clones…” Nython can barely spit the words out in anger.
“We are not asking.” Hunter states.
“That is my wife. My property, she belongs…”
“To no one.” You cut in, “I belong to myself, and myself only. I chose to give my heart to those who are worthy. And you, Volim Nython, are not worthy of me.” Your confidence is surprising even to yourself, but Hunter squeezes your hip reassuringly, looking down at you with a love-forsaken smile. You reach up to caress Hunter’s bruised face, “let's get you back to the marauder.” you whisper. The metal of the remainder of the chains is cold against you, but Hunter is warm to the touch, and firm, a familiarity that you are becoming more and more at home with.
This familiarity leads you away from the courtyard, his nose pressed to your hairline and breathing deeply.
“This is absurd!” Nython explodes, “you have known her for what, a fortnight? No woman is worth this, what could that wench have possibly done to gain your favors? What witches spell has the scarlet cast upon you? Or are clones so feeble minded any orders given are followed?”
Hunter has every intention of ignoring him.
“Did you murder your jedi for something as simple as a woman to warm your bed?”
You feel the air go cold, and Hunter tense up in your grasp. You see the way Crosshair looks down in shame and guilt, and the sadness the wracks wreckers eyes. You see a million memories float across Echo’s mind.
You feel a million voices call out in terror, and then suddenly silenced.
But before any of Clone Force 99 can retaliate, they watch something miraculous happen.
“Coward!” You scream, turning on your heel and stalking back towards Nython and Harrik. Both of them take a small step backwards in shock, a woman who previously never left Coruscant, living a sheltered life, had transformed. You walk towards them covered in dirt, wielding a small bloody knife, and a look in your eyes that is reminiscent of a predator hunting its prey. It is only then that Volim Nython discovers he had made a fatal error in taking you as his wife.
“You think you have power?” you are seething with rage, “do you think yourself better than us because of a title or a birthright? Do you think you bleed any differently than a clone?”
“She’s gone mad!” Harrik declares in fear as you come closer and closer.
“I am going to tell you this once, consider it your final warning.” You gesture to Nython with your blade. “Those men behind me, I would do anything for them, and they would do anything for me. I could snap my fingers and Clone Force 99 would bring me your head on a platter. That is power. You could not pay, threaten or beg anyone to do for you what we have done for each other, and that is where you have failed. I am finished living in fear, now it is your turn.”
“Start running.” Hunter’s voice reverberates through the courtyard, the Bad Batch at your command behind you.
The seperatist lord Volim Nython and his men scurry away like rats in a flood.
Clone Force 99 leisurely returns to their ship, captain and stowaway in tow.
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry
Chapter Twenty: The Disaster
The trees that fall within the forest, catch on one another. Never a clean break, some take other trees with them, others remain suspended mid air, held by the strength of trees yet to be burned.
Volim Nython makes it back to safety in time to watch the forest of Kashyyyk fall into ashes.
“Any trouble sir?” Colo Harik asks, standing beside the man in question.
“None particularly, but even I can admit those clones are tenacious.” Thinking back to the clone he encountered. Wondering how long it took him before he abandoned the wookie child in favor of his own life, or if he had sacrificed himself such that the child would have a chance of survival.
Either way, it is not as if it matters, it is not as if he will ever see them again.
The wookie child bangs on the door with their small fists as Hunters knuckles connect with the metal with a sickening crunch. Bruised, and cut bloodily, how his hands even manage to stay in form is a mystery. But the dent in the door is enough to keep the sergeant going.
It is almost open. Is Hunter’s mantra, the door will give, the child will live, he will see his brothers again.
It is almost open.
With a particularly loud bang, the tree begins to break, and the door shifts on its hinges, bending outwards as his fists hit the middle once more.
He pushes the young Wookie through without thinking. They give a small cry when they notice he hasn't followed. Hunter looks at the kid, at the gap, and rips his chestplate off.
Even then he barely makes it through, foot catching and him kicking off his military boot, and losing a shin guard. Everything hurts, the metal is unforgiving on his body. And still, when he is through, he clings to the young wookie in fear, like he’s a shiny all over again.
The wookie offers him his disgaruded helmet with scared eyes and soft hands. With a bare foot in the mud, the child held to his chest, Hunter takes off into the remnants of the forest of Kashyyyk.
He collapses into a ditch and hopes the separatists run out of ammunition, or that his corpse will protect the young wookie.
You wake to yet more yelling, but it is not between the five men as you would expect, there’s even more voices to be heard. The northern port of Naboo is somehow even busier than that of Alderaan, and from the sounds of it they’re pickier about the ships that dock there too.
You wake with parts of your clothes still damp. They feel itchy and awful against your skin, but you ignore it to the best of your ability. And once again, your hair seems to be impossibly tangled. Combing through it with your fingers, and smoothing out your shirt, before dawning Hunter’s long, hefty jacket and stepping out of his cabin.
For such a storm the night before, the port of Naboo seems insanely calm. The sky appears to be clear, and Wrecker passes you with a smile, and Gonk on his shoulder.
“G’morning Araay!” He greets you cheerfully.
“Good morning Wrecker,” You respond in kind, before your face falls. “Are we in Mustafar already?” You begin looking around, trying to grasp your surroundings.
“This is the most north-east port of Naboo.” Tech interrupts, walking down the steps from the main bridge. “Hunter believed we should check for damage caused by the storm.” The man in the goggles explained skeptically. You hum in agreement to try and sound like you know what Tech would be referring to.
“Has anyone seen-” You trail off when Crosshair also approaches, having climbed down from the bird's nest.
“Your lover?” Crosshair interjects with a satisfied smirk.
“We are not lovers.” You tell him pointedly.
“Yes you…” He begins,
“I think it’s cute” Wrecker interrupts
“I think it’s none of our business.” Tech joins in.
“Well they made it our business when they-”
“Don’t be such a hard ass Cross’air”
“Do not tell me what to do. Wrecker.”
“Stop being so childish, both of you…”
“Is anyone going to tell me where Hunter is?” You ask, before having to repeat yourself in a raised tone just to be heard over their arguing. All three of them continue to bicker quietly for a few moments.
“He went on a supply run.” Crosshair says, frowning at his brothers. Watching you as you slip in between the three men and start heading to disembark.
“He should be returning soon.” Tech tells you, you don't need to go get him is what he really wants to say, but given that you’re about as stubborn as a bantha, he feels like it would be a waste of breath. You look at him with raised eyebrows, Tech sighs and shakes his head.
“If you’re so concerned, come with me, in fact we could all have a lovely family outing.” You tease with a sickly sweet tone.
“This is not a family.” Crosshair argues pointing to everyone.
“Of course it is!” Wrecker, once again argues. “If we weren't family, why would we put up with each other?”
“Someone should stay with the ship.” Tech says walking away to check his holopad. Crosshair gives one last deep sigh, and resigns himself to his fate. Grabbing his rifle before following you and Wrecker down to the dock.
“I will use this if I have to.” He tells both of you, “whether it is on you two or myself.”
Hunter finds himself completely out of his depth, standing in a women's clothing boutique. His argument is that you need more than one set of clothes, but he did not account for the sheer complexity of female fashion. And when he realizes he does not even know your measurements, the famed sergeant surrenders for the first time in his life, and gives up.
Determined not to return empty handed, and fueled by a desire to get you something that is nice, he stops by a fruit cart, muling over his options, and the price of fresh food these days. Hunter is admiring a selection of Jogan Fruit’s when he hears an unfamiliar voice.
“I didn’t know pirates were so interested in simple things.” Hunter translates the Kyuzo words subconsciously. And he puts the Jogan down slowly but firmly, in such a way that has the stall owner looking nervously from one man to the other.
“Embo.” He greets, seeing the unmistakable hat. “I do not believe we have business together.” He tells him firmly.
“The girl.” The bounty hunter tells the sergeant seriously. Noticing when his jaw clenches at the mention of you.
“What girl?” Hunter tries to play it off, but the way his shoulders tighten gives everything away.
“Where’s the girl?” Embo demands, and he can see Hunters mind racing through the possibilities. A Bounty Hunter as revered as him wouldn’t be asking the whereabouts of his prey. And if Hunter is not the intended target, why would Embo give himself away this easily. But perhaps it is not about the motives of the employed, but that of their employer.
So what is it that Nython wants?
A scapegoat.
Hunter comes to the conclusion all too late, he should have bolted the second he recognized Embo, he should have run while he had the chance. He never should have left your side.
His viroblade connects with the metal of Embo’s signature hat, and Hunter finds himself receiving a foot to the chest, and collapsing into the fruit cart. This commotion is enough to scatter the remaining people in the busy street.
He hears the way the hat slices through the air before he sees it, and manages to roll himself off of the debris in time. Hunter draws his blaster and fires three shots in quick succession, Embo is taller than he is, and Hunter knows better than to try and outrun one of the galaxy's fammed bounty hunters.
Crosshair will not stop frowning, but you think he’s having a nice time nevertheless. Wrecker, having found some fresh food to take back to the marauder, is happy. He keeps offering some of his snacks to Crosshair, and ultimately giving it to Gonk when he’s turned away from his sour brother.
You take in Naboo to the best of your ability, trying not to get too distracted by the hustle and bustle of the shops and people. And everything so lovely until the three of you hear the screams and gasps of a shocked crowd.
“What’s going on?” You ask, when Crosshair grips your arm as the many people take off like a river of water flowing against the three of you. When the sound of a blaster rings through the air, the crowd starts moving even faster.
“Wrecker!” Crosshair exclaims, pushing you towards his brother, clearly having seen something the two of you have not. Your eyes follow the sniper as he scales the nearest building.
“Where is he going?” You ask, looking around frantically. You see Wrecker's face drop suddenly and you know he sees something you can’t.
“We need to get back to the ship.” He’s trying to play it down, keep you calm, but he isn't a good liar. You turn to follow his gaze and that's when you see it.
Hunter facing off against what can only be a skilled fighter, from the trouble he seems to be giving the sergeant. You flinch and duck when a sniper bolt connects with the man's metal hat. Crosshair has gone for the highest vantage point.
“Get back to the ship.” Wrecker rushes out, pressing a pistol into your hand. “Find Tech, tell him what's happening.”
“I cannot leave y-”
“Array!” Bile fills your stomach at the sound of Wreckers anxiety. “He’s here for you.” Another ping of Crosshairs rifle says he still hasn't hit his intended target.
“Wrecker!” Crosshair shouts, before he falls into the cart that was tossed into the middle of the street. His rifle skittering to the side. Above him, Colo Harrik and his men surround the rooftops. Wrecker shoves you into the doorway you’re standing nearest.
“I believe we’ve made our point, that's enough Embo.” Colo Harrik declares. Hunter, who resides at the unfortunate end of a sword hesitantly raises his hands. Wrecker and Crosshair are pulled into the middle of the square.
“You are a tenacious bunch, aren't you?” He chuckles to himself in memory of the war, before addressing the sergeant. “Where is she?” When Hunter remains silent Harrik sends a swift kick into his chest that has him doubling over.
“Go fuck yourslef Harrik.” Crosshair spits, prompting one of the men to push him into the ground.
“So crass,” he responds disgustedly. “I really cannot fathom what she sees in any of you.”
“Decency. If she had any decency she would have returned to her husband by now.”
“He is not her husband.” All eyes turn to Hunter, who for the first time since the ordeal began, is speaking.
“So he does speak!” Harrik rejoices, watching his men struggle to cuff the man in question. “I wonder how infuriating it will be when she comes crawling back to him. When she tells the public of the horrors of her kidnapping. When she details the disgusting treatment she received from the Kaminoan clones, and how one of them even had the audacity to try and force her to love him.” Hunter struggles in earnest now.
“She’s never going back to coruscant.” He tells him.
“We shall see,” He says before raising his voice. “Spread the word men! Bring back Volim Nythons wife, or the Clone pirates will hang!” Your blood runs cold. And you watch Harrik wave a circle with his hand before Crosshair, Wrecker and Hunter are dragged up and away.
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry
Chapter Twenty-three: The Epilogue
“Uncle! Uncle!” The children call to the graying long haired man, little arms reaching out for affection. He knows what they want, to be perched on his lap and to listen to him recount memories of times gone by.
“Yes ad'ika?” he coos to them, hoisting them closer to him, balancing the two growing kids.
“Tell us a story before bed?” The youngest of the two asks, her curious eyes wandering to make sure her Buir has not noticed neither she or her brother are in bed as they are supposed to be.
“A short one, I do not wish to face the wrath of your papa.” He relents, never being able to deny either child. “Which one would you like to hear?” it is a rhetorical question, he knows exactly which tale they want him to recount. “Perhaps about the time we rescued a baby Rancor? Or maybe-”
“The story of the pirate queen!” He gets cut off by the children simultaneously.
“Alright, alright.” He agrees, leaning back into the chair, wrapping his arms around the kids. “Once upon a time, there was a princess of Coruscant, she would spend her days, kept away in her castle, reading and teaching herself about the history of this world, but never experiencing it. Until one day, she was to be wed, but not by her wishes. And so very bravely, she ran from her castle, and down to the docks of Coruscant, but where would she run? Who could she trust? And so in the matter of only a few moments, the gorgeous princess of Coruscant, became a stowaway on a ship crawling with pirates. And she hid, very well for a short time, but she was discovered by the pirates who were furious at her trickery, for she was so well disguised they did not recognize the princess at first. One pirate wanted to throw her over board, one suggested they return her to coruscant…”
“And one of them threw her in the brig.” A sly voice interrupted as he walked by the trio. “Aren't you Womp Rats supposed to be in bed?” he added.
“Shhhhh we’re getting to the good part!” The young boy hushed.
“And the princess does get thrown in the brig,” the storyteller continues. “But she is determined, and stubborn, and so she wriggles out a nail and by the miracles of the force, breaks her way out of the brig. And tells the pirates that if she can escape the vile prince who wishes to marry her, she will pay them mountains of treasures. And so the pirates agree to help her run from her royalty. But soon they discover that the prince, filled with rage, has hired armies to track down the princess. And the pirate captain is captured! But what the evil prince does not realize is that through her journey with the pirates, the princess has broken down their hard shells and wriggled her way into their hearts. Pirates, you see, are fiercely loyal, the prince’s fatal mistake was underestimating this. And the pirate captain has fallen in love with the princess of Coruscant, and perhaps, he believes that she may have fallen in love with him.”
He pauses for a moment to see if the children have fallen asleep in his lap as they usually do. When he is met with their small faces, hanging onto his every word, he smiles and continues.
“The pirate vows to return to his love. But before he can make his escape, the princess herself returns to Coruscant, leading his brethren in tow…”
“What does brethren mean?” The young girl whispers to her brother.
“It is like his brothers.” He whispers back before shushing her for interrupting the story.
“And she storms the castle, determined to return her pirate captain to her arms. The prince has underestimated the princess, she has metamorphosed into a queen, but not just any queen, the queen of the pirates…”
“What does Metamorphosed mean?” she asks, getting hushed b y her brother again.
“She is almost unrecognizable to the Coruscanti prince, and she gives him a choice. Return the pirate captain to her, or death.” Behind him where his quick witted brother is gathering the children's blankets, he rolls his eyes with a sigh:
“So dramatic”
“Well is that not how the story goes?” his Vode counters, earning him another eyeroll. “Anyways,” he continues. “The prince realizes he is horribly outnumbered and he surrenders to the pirate queen. Her captain is returned to her, and they sail off with their brethren to rule the seas. She makes a name for herself as the bringer of justice within the oceans. Her captain by her side, and the pirates who are finally able to find a place to call home. The end.” He finishes the story.
“But what happened to her? Is she still out there, the pirate queen?” The young boy asks, just as nosy as his uncle, and the man he is named after.
“I am sorry Ad’ika, the pirate queen lived long ago, her story is hundreds of years old.”
“I bet she was a jedi as well.” tThe young girl says in awe.
“She can't be a pirate and a jedi.” Her brother argues.
“But the jedi lived long ago so she must have at least known the jedi!” She counters, her brother goes to argue with his little sister as per usual, but they both fall silent when their father walks in, hands on his hips.
“I do believe I sent you both up to bed,” He states. “Your mother is going to be very upset with me.” He sighs, holding out his arms, and pulling them both up to carry them to bed.
“I'm sure they’ll be fine.” The storyteller says, standing to place a kiss on both of their foreheads, bidding them goodnight with a smile.
A smile that only grows when he hears a door creak open, and you walk by, as if you’re a siren in the night. Caressing the tiny faces of the children and giving them a soft kiss before bed, not breaking stride in order to dump the collection of Meiloorun fruits that need chopping for breakfast tomorrow. The door shuts as the children are carried away, and you do not have to turn around to know whose arms are warping around your middle.
“You know one day they will figure out that, that story is grossly exaggerated and did not take place many many moons ago.” You chide the captain.
“I have never grossly exaggerated anything in my life.” He says, kissing your cheek.
“Mmhmm.” You muse, unconvinced, turning into his touch.
“And you are my queen.” He concurs, the hands on your hips flip you so you’re facing him and he can lift you onto the counter.
“Hunter.” You warn him, only a little peeved that he interrupted your breakfast preparation. One of his hands snakes into your hair pulling your mouth to his, ignoring your protest and kissing you deeply, hungrily. Every kiss is just as frantic as the first one the two of you shared.
“I do believe we need more than two little ones running around.” He whispers to you, forehead pressed to your own.
“Those two aren’t ours, you can have that conversation with your brothers should you want more.” You sass, moving to get off the counter, but he steps closer, keeping you pinned.
“That is my point, they are not ours.”
“Hunter, have we not had this conversation? And mutually decided that for now at the very least we do not need children?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.
“Does the pirate queen not need heirs to her legacy?” He teases, kissing you again.
“Perhaps…” You look into his eyes, taken with them as ever. Before reaching out to pull his lips to yours again.
Outside the Havoc Marauder rocks in the waves, quietly lulling everyone to a peaceful sleep.
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry
Chapter Eighteen: The Storm
By the time the men make their way back from the small village at the foot of the mountains of Geonosis, you’ve tracked Gonk down again, and are running your hands through her small feathers.
And by the time you’ve left the harbor, Wrecker declares that your training must begin with sword combat.
“It is the basics after all.” He argues, when Echo and Tech exchange concerned looks.
“How, exactly, is that the basics?” Tech asks, folding his arms over his chest. “Evidently I should be in charge of this. We can start with basic hand to hand combat.” At that, Crosshair rolls his eyes, and you wonder how the orbs haven't taken up permanent residence at the back of his head. Behind him, Echo scoffs.
“Clearly none of you have ever trained someone to do anything.” He states. You like to think he’s looking better than he was this morning, but from the angle at which he stands, it’s more likely he’s just gotten used to hiding the pain.
“And where is this extensive teaching history from?” Crosshair pipes up.
“From being an ARC Trooper.” Echo fires back, letting the guilty silence from the rest of the batch speak for itself.
“What is an ARC trooper?” You ask, watching as Echo limps over to you, blaster in hand.
“Advanced Recon Commandos, abbreviated to ARC’s, were an elite variant of standard clone troopers.” Echo tells you like it’s second nature to him.
“Regs.” Crosshair says under his breath.
“Identifiable via Pauldrons and a Kama, ARC’s were usually utilized to handle situations, battles or missions, less suitable for a ‘regular’ clone.” Echo sounds like he’s reciting some kind of manual, which, you figure, he probably was. As he does this, he also takes the time to unload one of his blasters, switch on the safety, and check the barrel for any debris.
“That sounds like quite the force to be reckoned with.” You say, wondering for the first time, what Echo was like before the Techno Union.
“We were.” He says firmly, but solemnly. “Becoming an ARC Trooper was, well, it was rare to say the least.”
“Well, Domino Squad was known for its rarity. I'll give you that.” Tech adds, leaning against the railing of the ship, where they’ve decided training will be safest.
“Thanks.” Echo says, only a little sarcastically, before holding the blaster out to you for you to take.
“So are you Clone Force 99 or are you the Domino Squad?” You ask, hesitantly picking up the weapon. Crosshair lets out a laugh at that.
“Echo was a part of Domino Squad, the rest of us make up Clone Force 99. He joined the Bad Batch later.” Tech explains, Echo sees the confusion on your face.
“The Bad Batch is our unofficial designation, I got lumped with these guys after the Techno Union, when the rest of my Squad, including another ARC trooper, had been dead for some time.” He explains, “think of it like this, we are all brothers, but Domino Squad was made up of my twins… in a way.”
“I’m so sorry you lost them,” You tell him, and all of the clones blink at you, after all of your questions, you express your condolences first? Crosshair laughs again.
“You are something else aren't ya.” He says, putting a toothpick in his mouth and walking back to the main deck. You look to Tech for a response to his twin's action.
“People don’t mourn clones.” He tells you factually.
“I do.” You counter him without a second thought.
“You, little Aaray, are an enigma.” Echo responds.
Echo, as it turns out, is an amazing teacher. He starts by making you memorize how to safely handle a blaster. Things like, how to remove the charge casing, and how to turn the safety on and off. And by the time you can hit something consistently, the sun begins to set.
“Has anyone seen Hunter?” Tech asks, strolling up to you and Echo, waterskins in hand. He looks perplexed when you both say that you haven't seen the captain today.
“Is something wrong?” You cannot help but ask.
“According to my predictions there will be a storm tonight.” Tech says, turning around again, most likely to shout at Wrecker or Crosshair.
Tech does his best to ignore his two brothers as he passes them. Opting to head straight to the captains quarters, hell bent on forcing Hunter into utilizing the calming salts he picked up from the apothecary on Alderaan.
“Captain?” He talks instead of knocking. And he finds Hunter hunched over maps. Placing a bit of food in front of him, Tech crosses his arms.
“Yes?” Hunter asks when he sees the way the goggles stare down at him.
“What has kept you so occupied today?” Well, Tech was never one for sugar coating things anyways.
“Trying to find a quicker way to Mustafar.” Hunter tells him, running a hand through his hair, he almost shivers at the memory of your hands entangled in it.
“There isn’t one.” Tech tells him, annoyed that he didn’t simply ask and save himself the time. “Dare I ask why the sudden rush?”
“She’s a danger to us.” Hunter responds simply. Arching an eyebrow at Tech's thoughtful hum. “You disagree” He questions.
“I think that Aaray is in fact, beneficial to the crew.” He says, watching for Hunter’s reaction. “Hunter.” He proposes firmly. “Did something happen?”
“You’re dismissed.” Hunter states, knowing Tech can tell when anyone is lying, that karking knowledge-obsessed brain of his.
“There will be a storm tonight.” Tech tells him, not moving just yet.
“We will sail through it.” Hunter says gesturing to his door.
“It is safer for us to lay an anchor and wait it out.” Tech argues.
“We sail through, I'm not wasting time because some rain has made you skittish, soldier.” The military designation takes Tech aback some. He concludes that something most certainly happened between you and the sergeant, but he cannot know for certain what exactly took place.
You wake to the loudest thunderstorm of your life. Scared senseless not only from the noise but the way Gonk’s eyes bore into you from your spot on the floor. You scoop her up, standing in the middle of the room as Crosshair, and Tech struggle to get up with the vicious movement of the vessel. One particular wave sends you to your knees with the force the ship collides into it with.
“Where’s Wrecker!” You shout over the sound of the rain on wood. Your question answers itself when he pokes his head in from outside. Having wrenched the door open.
“Aha!” He chuckles, “This oughta be a good one!” before turning around to head back out into the storm. Tech dashes past you, already shouting about the sail ties.
“Stay. Here.” Crosshair tells you, standing surprisingly stable. Before also heading out into the storm. You look over to Echo, as one wave sends you both into the floor.
“Crosshair is right.” Echo says, before adding: “Stay. Here.” as he stands again, you don’t miss the way his metal leg slips on the grain of the wood.
“Echo…” You try, but he’s so determined, by the time you say his name he’s gone. Worry fills you immediately, and you know you need to stay put, that you’ll only get in their way. It is stupid to ignore them on this matter, but it does not stop you from putting Gonk in a hammock and making your way to the door that leads outside.
The sky is not as nearly dark as it should be. The lightning provides enough light to see, and while most of the oil lanterns have gone out, the few that are still alight cannot compare with nature's bright white streaks in the sky. Wrecker wrestles at the helm of the ship, using his strength to fight with the wheel and keep the ship as steady as possible. Tech and Crosshair are yanking one of the sail ties tighter, it clearly having slipped at some point. And yet again, the sergeant is nowhere to be found.
You wonder if that’s your fault.
A massive wave that was hidden by the darkness of the water hits the ship with such a force it sends everyone but Wrecker to the ground, and immediately soaks you through to your bones. Wiping the water off of your face you look see Tech and Crosshair trying to wrestle with a piece of rope that is too wet to get a good grip on. And when the wind picks up again and catches on the sail which is connected to the rope, neither Crosshair or Tech have a hope of keeping it at bay.
Echo however is on the floor of the vessel, both hands white knuckling the second piece of rope for the same sail. With both feet pushed against the wooden support, he sits as the last defense to total chaos.
You run to him without a second thought. Skidding where the rain has slicked the wood you make it to Echo just before another wave, from the other side this time, crashes into the ship.
A number of things happen in quick succession. Echo legs lose purchase on the wood, the wind picks up again, bringing the sail with it. The rope pulls itself through his frail hands no matter how hard Echo grips it, and as he lets go in pain, your hands fly out to catch the sail tie.
Through the pivot of the buckle that the rope is usually tied to, the wind pulls you into the support beam. But someone catches you before you can make devastating contact with the wood.
Hunter. Soaked to the bone, hair flat against his bandana and clothes sticking to his muscles, Hunter. He rips the rope from your hands and deftly ties it in place.
“Lay anchor!” He shouts to Tech and Crosshair, who comply with the order happily. And as the heavy iron makes contact on the ocean floor, the ship gives one final lurch before it stops moving. Hunter is dripping water from above you, but in your brief panic you grasped onto him nonetheless. The Sergeant steps away from you coldly, but it gives you enough room to move to check on Echo.
“He’s fine.” Hunter tells you, a hint of jealousy creeping through.
“He was almost killed.” You bite back at the monotone man. Hunter scoffs at that, and raises his eyebrows when you reel on him. “Do you not care? Look at him, look at your crew!”
“Echo is a solider-” he starts
“In what war!?” You scream over the sound of the rain hitting the wooden planks. Behind the sergeant you see Tech gingerly help Echo up, and even Crosshair moves to aid him. It’s a slight movement of his hands, and he stops when he hears you scream at Hunter. An unknown emotion on the sniper's face. “You are not at war anymore.” You tell him shakily.
“Yes. We are. Against that empire of yours, against-“ He’s so angry his voice is steady in that dangerous way, but it doesn’t stop you interrupting him again.
“You lost!” You’re crying but with the rain that’s soaked you through you don’t think he can tell. “And I am very sorry that you did, but you lost. And now it’s time to come home.” Hunter can see you trembling, they all can see you trembling.
“And what happens if I can’t? If I can’t come home until the mission is done?” No one but you heard him over the cracking sky.
“Nothing.” Rain pours down his back off of his hat when he looks at you. “Nothing happens, and nothing continues to happen, nothing fills the parts of you that are supposed to be your brothers, it takes hold and it grips tight. Until there’s nothing but that nothing. And there’s so much of it that it doesn’t even hurt anymore, there’s no room for anything but that nothingness. And when you drift away there’s so much nothingness and you’re so alone you don’t even realize that there’s people who will miss you.”
He takes precious steps towards you, until you’re close enough that he can reach out and push matted wet hair out of your face. You shake in his grasp. Unsure of what he will do next, his face impossible to read.
“Mesh’la I’m afraid I’m already too far gone. I think that my brothers deserve better, but I know that you deserve better.”
“We do not want better. We want you Hunter.”
“Mesh’la…” he starts tears falling in the rain, and even with his brothers watching even if the storm even when you’re so lost in emotion you should not be making brash actions like this, you pull pull him by his coat collar until you can hold his face, knock his hat off with your motions and give him such a bruising kiss he has no choice but to understand how much he means to you.
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry
Chapter Twenty-one : The Well Thought Out, but Poorly Executed, Plan.
You bolt back to the Havoc Marauder, running as fast as you can until you cannot tell if you’re gasping for breath out of fear or exhaustion. You reach the docks and start pushing people aside like a madwoman.
“Tech!” You all but screech, hoping, praying he can hear you over the sounds of the bustle. “Echo!” You call, before tripping on something in your haste and hitting the deck at the bottom of the gang plank. Hands help you up, and your eyes meet Tech’s which soften immensely when he sees your distress and connects the dots.
“What happened?” He asks, trying to stop the frantic look in your eyes that keeps darting back and forth.
“There, there was this man.” You get out before dissolving into hysteria. “He and, and Hunter they- they… oh maker.” Tech recognises the signs of a panic attack before you do. And pulls you close to him as he leads you up the plank and into the crew’s quarters for some privacy.
“What’s going on?” Echo asks, limping in.
“H-harrik,” you breathe out shakily. Watching Echo’s face drop. “I’m so so-sorry” You choke on the words. And begin pulling at the front tie corset you’re wearing frantically. You can’t breathe, it's so tight, why can't you breathe?
“It’s alright, Aaray, it is alright.” Tech tries,
“It is not alright!” You shout, before dissolving into tears again. “They’re going to han-” you can't finish the words. Sliding down the wall until you're sitting, knees to chest in order to feel some kind of stability.
“Where, aaray?” Echo asks gently, “Where is Harrik taking them?”
Echo sits with you while Tech readies the ship. You do your best to relay what happened. How the three of them were surrounded, how Wrecker told you to run, and how they all sacrificed themselves for you.
“He wants me returned,” you say, “it is that or they die.” Echo runs a hand down his face. “I’ll do it.” you say turning towards him on the floor. “I will marry him, I will.” It is almost like you're begging, trying to bargain with Echo even though he’s not Nython or Harrik. “If it means they’ll be safe…”
Echo says your name very seriously and takes your hands. “You are not going to marry him. That is not what is going to happen. Do you hear me?”
“But…” You start.
“But nothing.” He cuts you off. You can tell he is thinking about something, but you are not sure what.
“We need a plan, something, anything to get them back.” Tech interrupts your rambling as he enters the room.
“Our best bet is to intercept their ship on the way to Coruscant.” He says.
“That’s a terrible idea.” Echo tells him, unimpressed. “How do we know the route they will take, how do we know how many men are on board?”
“A lot less men than are waiting for their arrival at Cursocant!” Tech retorts.
“Listen.” Echo argues, “I know going by the book isn't your speciality but-”
“I maintain that we never had the help of Jedi generals on our missions.” Tech fires
“I maintain that I never had to de-empire my twin!” Echo sasses.
“Crosshair is not my twin!” Tech defends.
“Crosshair worked for the empire?” You ask shocked and upset.
“Yes!” They both exclaim. Before looking at each other and continuing to argue, at some point Echo stands up,
“There’s only so much we can do, they’re essentially P.O.W’s now.” Echo sighs.
“What’s a P.O.W?” you ask again, anything to break up the argument.
“Prisoner of war.” Tech responds,
“But you’re not at war.” You wonder if the term still applies to clones held captive. Both men stop and look at you, then back at each other.
“She’s right.” Echo says, “that means…”
“We’re not bound by traditional rules of combat.” Tech finishes. He tilts his head slightly at Echo, as if they’re communicating without words now.
“A false surrender.” Tech says eyes dating over to you briefly.
“Careful now,” Echo cautions, “that’s a very dangerous plan.”
“A false Surrender, is that not illegal?” You ask. Watching Tech’s smile grow at your question.
“It is a war crime, yes. But as you said, we are not at war.”
“Tech.” Echo warns again, looking sheepishly at you.
“Oh,” you realize why they’re staring at you now. “You want me to hand myself in.”
“Not exactly.” Tech corrects, looking at Echo who throws his hands up in defeat and walks to rest in a hammock. “We will hand you over in return for Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair. Once we have them back the odds are decidedly more in our favor. It is, after all, easier to fight to save one person rather than three.” You stay silent for a moment. Thinking it all over, before coming to a conclusion.
“I want Nython dead.” You tell them both, watching as they nod in agreement. “But I want to be the one to do it.” Echo’s head shoots up at that, shocked at your demand. “And I want them to know it was me.” There’s an emotion in your eyes neither man recognizes.
“I agree that for you to live peacefully Nython must perish..” Tech starts, but he stops when your eyes meet his.
You’ve thrown knives, fired blasters, and not once did the crew of the Havoc Marauder think you were malicious or dangerous.
Until now.
“I want him dead.” Your voice shakes, barely. “And I want it done by my hand. I want…” you stop to console the emotions building inside of you. “I want every Coruscanti lord to know what happens when they try to take a woman's life from her, when they push her to desperation, when they think that they can take and take and take, without any repercussions. I want him to fear me as I have feared him.” Echo stands up again, looking at you from your spot on the floor.
“And I want him to pay for what he did to you and your brothers.” You finish, watching Echo extend his hand to help you up. When you’re standing he looks at you with the kind of conviction only a soldier has.
“Wait here.” Tech says, leaving quickly i search of something.
“Was it too much?” You ask Echo softly.
“Absolutely not.” He answers, as you both head to the door, allowing the fresh sea air to grace your features. Tech returns with a small dagger, a skull etched into the blade and obvious wear and tear that speaks to the history of the knife.
“Take it, you can hide it among your clothes easily.” He tells you, watching as your hands hold it, and see it glimmer in the sunlight. “Hunter stopped using it when the war ended. Something about too many memories. But, it means a great deal to him still, so it makes sense for you to carry it.”
For good measure, Tech plonks a hat on your head, Because if you’re going to be a pirate, you might as well look the part.
Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker are put into separate cells in the bottom of Harriks ship. And he wishes you were here. Even if it is just to use your escapist skills for the bars that hold them in. He knows they’ll reach Coruscant within the day, damn the Haydian way Currents, damn the bounty hunter, damn it all to hell.
Harrik walks down the stairs with his two biggest guards, it is not a very effective intimidation tactic given that Wrecker towers over them easily. Ignoring this, he dags over a stool to sit in front of Hunter.
“I am going to ask you a few questions.” Harrik says, watching Hunter raise an eyebrow expecting a threat of tourture should he not comply. “And if I think you’re co-operating, the charges for your comrades can be lessened.” Harrik gestures vaguely to Wrecker and Crosshair. “I know there’s no point in threatening you, but at least consider their livelihood.” Hunter remains silent.
“Out of curiosity, how did you come across the girl?” He asks.
He gets no answer.
“Why not give her up on Alderaan?”
Nothing but the sound of waves against the ship.
“I am being quite generous here, Sergeant.” Harrik warns, “Do you not want them to live?”
Hunter wants nothing more than to be out of his cuffs and fighting again.
“I guess not then.” Harrik stands, kicking the stool away, and going back up the stairs to his crew. “I am sure Lord Nython will be able to get something out of you.”
Hunter was right, they reach Coruscant within the day, and the amount of guards awaiting them is almost laughable. And yet, there is still no sign of Volim Nython.
“What’s the plan, Hunter?” Crosshair whispers to him as they disembark the ship. When he doesn't get an answer, Crosshair opens his mouth for a snarky comment but nothing comes.
“Take those two down to the brig,” Harrik calls, separating Hunter from his brothers. “Bring this one with me.”
The main hall is where Hunter is bought, the massive chandelier is full of so many jewels it hurts to look at. Sitting at the head of the table is the monster himself.
Volim Nython.
Immediately Hunter overheats, like the fire is surrounding him again, like the Wookie is crying in his ear, like the barrage never stops.
“Kneel.” Harrik hisses in his ear, before delivering a swift kick to the back of his knees. The man in question drains his goblet of wine before speaking.
“How long do you wager, it will be before she is returned?” Nython asks, not making eye contact with the sergeant.
“I’d say before nightfall tomorrow.” Harrik answers, “if Embo’s plan works.” Nython hums in thought.
“Tell me, Clone, why would this woman trade her life for yours?” He asks, standing and crossing to him as he speaks. When Hunter does not provide an answer, Nython backhand slaps him across the face. With his face turned to the side, he sees the tattoo properly. An evil smile comes across his features as he quietly laughs. Pulling a chair over to sit down on, Nython smirks.
“I shall assume you left the poor youngling to fend for itself.” He infers. “You did, didn’t you?” he provokes. “Good riddance, but here I thought clones were supposed to have honor, though vermin rarely care for anything but themse-.”
“That child is alive and well.” Hunter says slowly, looking Nython dead in the eye.
“And what of my wife?” Nython questions, watching him look away again. “If I offered her life for that of yourself and your company? One person for three, that is not a hard equation.” Nython draws his sword, pressing it close to Hunter's neck, enough to draw a little blood.
“Threatening a bound man is undermining is it not?” Hunter asks.
“Do you actually care for her?” Nython is giving into rage at the realization. “And you believe she cares for you? I thought clones were smarter than that.”
“It must drive you to insanity. Knowing I have her affection when you never will.” Hunter says with the utmost pride.
“Then Embo is correct, she will come back for you.” Nython counters. “Either she played you a fool, and you and your crew will die for her, or what you say is true, and she returns herself to me to save you.”
“And yet, you will live knowing a Clone had her love first.”
Hunter swears he feels the first punch before it lands.
Echo firmly, albeit awkwardly attaches the dagger within your pants against the small of your back, where it will be hidden by the bulk of your coat.
“Tell me the plan again.” He demands whilst doing so, a determined look in his eyes. A part of you thinks you can see Echo as he was, before the Techno Union. You wonder if his tough voice and demanding attitude was a result of his ARC status, you wonder how many times he went over these kinds of plans with his Domino Squad.
“Tech and I approach the courtyard, through the main entranceway, while you scale the way to get to the walkway.”
“The Ramparts.” He corrects.
“The ramparts,” you confirm. “Your movement will incapacitate the wall guards and once we have visual confirmation of Wrecker, Crosshair and Hunter, we give them hell.” Echo chuckles while straightening your jacket.
“You remind me of my twin sometimes Aaray.” He tells you with a soft smile.
“The other ARC?” You ask, watching Echo nod.
“He had quite the attitude as well, was a bit of a di'kut at times, but full of fight. Just like you.” You smile at him while he remembers, Echo is not really talking to you anymore, more so voicing a memory. “He’d think you’re amazing, be all over this, ready to go. Never backed down from a fight, even when he should have.” Echo stops to blink for a moment, before looking at you again, clad in a dark blue coat, the kind of smile that reverberated through anyone who saw it. Hopeful eyes that tried to tell you it was going to be okay, and it was as if he was looking through you, and into your heart that echoed Fives.
“Sometimes, I am grateful, I would not have wanted him to see me like this, and I would not want him to know what came of the republic. But mostly I am grateful I am not stuck in this confined space with him.” Echo jokes making you laugh a little.
“He would have sprinted to your aid Aaray, would have fought tooth and nail for you.”
“I can see why he is your twin then.” You tell Echo.
“Are you two just about ready?” Tech softly calls, “we are approaching Curosant.”
It feels like the longest walk you’ve done, down the plank and into cursoscant, a hat akin to Hunter’s is shoved onto your head to conceal you for as long as possible. It is as if your memory is walking down the docks, looking for a ship to stowaway on, you could have gone back in time for all you know, a lost girl could brush past you at any second, and she wouldn't even recognize you.
When you reach the guarded walls you stop, there is no escape when you go through the door.
“Echo.” You call to him softly, scared. And when he looks at you he wishes for a multitude of things. He wishes they had backup, he wishes Nython would drop dead of his own accord, he wishes you’d been born in better times, he wishes the republic was still standing.
He wishes Fives was here because he would know what to tell you.
“You will never be in danger again after today.” Echo promises. You nod trying to convince yourself of that fact. And Echo stalks around somewhere else to breach the walls.
The courtyard gates are always open, but no one would cross them if they knew what was good for them.
It makes walking into a death sentence all too easy.
Harrik steps out first, looking all too pleased with himself. Before saying something to one of the guards who disappears within the building.
All too quickly Nython steps outside, your blood switches from hot to cold and then hot again, as if it can’t make its mind up. His longsword is attached to his hip almost as close as Harrik is to him.
“Take the hat off.” Harrik speaks up.
“Where are my brothers?” Tech counters.
“Take off the hat.” Nython raises his voice, they're still a distance away. Most likely to avoid being attacked. With one last deep breath you remove Hunter’s hat that sits low on your head, steal away your emotion and meet his eyes with a cold glare.
“Pay the Bounty Hunter.” He says simply to Harrik when he meets your eyes. Before addressing Tech rather than yourself.
“Have her walk to me and we will bring your reward.”
“Bring me brothers first.” Tech states.
“You are not in a position to bargain, clearly you can see that. And I am a man of my word, I have no use for Clone captives, they will be returned once my betrothed is safe.” You look at Tech briefly.
“We will not leave you.” He promises.
And so you begin crossing the courtyard.
“My love,” Volim Nython coo’s to you, once you’ve stepped over the invisible line separating where Tech stands, and where he resides. He places a kiss on your cheek and grasps your waist tightly.
“Try to play nice and I might let your clones live.” He hisses in your ear. The hand on your waist is so tight it brings tears to the corner of your eyes.
“We had a deal, Nython.” Tech declares, stepping back slightly when his personal guard stands to attention.
“Calm, calm,” you cringe as he calls. Using his free hand to wave to someone, he turns both of you away from Tech. Walking you inside he lets you pass Crosshair and Wrecker as they’re led out into the courtyard.
“Aaray…” Wrecker murmurs when he sees you, and even Crosshair’s face drains when he sees you in Nythons grasp. You're twisting now, trying to see what's going on. One thought resonating in your mind.
Hunter.
“Oh, I was hoping you would not have to witness this.” The eel holding you says, but you can tell from the smile on his face he is lying.
The last two guards walking Crosshair and Wrecker forward are dragging a limp form with them. Hair hanging in his face, boots scraping the cobblestone pathway, barely conscious, Hunter.
You struggle so quickly you’re almost free of Nythons grasp. But he’s quick to remedy that, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling your back to his chest. His forearm inches higher threatening to tighten around your neck if you move again.
“I am a generous man.” Nython seethes in your ear, “But I will not have my betrothed’s disappearance go unpunished.”
“No!” You writhe in his grasp, and your voice is enough to cause Hunter’s head to whip up, eyes wide when his meet yours.
“No…” He echos, pulling at the hands that are dragging him along, digging his feet into the stone, anything to get to you.
“Echo!” You call to him, wherever he is. Nython leans in close to your ear to whisper:
“Do you not see, this is the loyalty of clones. They have their own back, they do not care for you. My dear, you have been played.” his hand moves to grab your jaw, turning it so you can watch Wrecker and Crosshair be returned to Tech. And then to the block in the middle of the courtyard that was placed during your struggle.
“Hunter!” You scream to him, desperate.
“Hush my sweet.” Nython demands, “as I said, someone needs to pay for your disobedience.”
“Spare him.” You beg, it is as if the world moves in slow motion. “Spare him and you can have me, I'll do anything for his life.”
“And that is why he must die!” Nython rages, throwing you to the ground. “I have you. You belong to me, for the rest of your sorry days, and there is nothing your pathetic clone can do about it.”
Nythons men are struggling to hold Hunter into place on the block, even with his hands behind his back, he is a dangerous man.
Where is Echo? Your mind screams, where are Tech and Wrecker and Crosshair? You stand up and without thinking run towards the Sergeant. Nython catches you with ease, struggling against your pull.
“Please.” You beg, “you won!” You turn to scream in his face, “he does not need to die, you won! You have everything you want!” You stop when Hunter screams in frustration, they have his legs out from under him, his head pinned onto the block and held in place by the latching mechanism.
Your eyes search Nython’s for any hint of mercy.
“I am begging you.” You whisper. He kicks you to the ground again, and from upside down you see Tech fighting off a guard trying to subdue him.
“You really do care about him.” Volim comes to realization.
“Yes,” you breathe. He sees red.
“Wait!” He calls, holding up a hand, motioning for Harrik to change places with him. “I’ll kill him myself.”
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry
Chapter Seventeen: The Mountain Pass Of Geonosis
Hunter doesn't sleep at all that night, laying in his bed in the captain's quarters, he can think of nothing but you. Guilt grips his heart tight, regret even more so. But he is certain he did the right thing. He can not afford to fall in love with you, and you would never fall in love with him.
He feels like he would want to cry over the loss of you, but there’s nothing there. Hunter lays in bed numb to the ocean surrounding him. All that crosses his mind is a sad smile when he thinks about discovering the stowaway on his boat. The way you threw yourself off of the edge of the vessel surprised even him. The bravery you demonstrated that day put entire separatist armies to shame. He’d admired you from the very beginning, he should have known then that he was getting in too deep.
“Hunter!” Crosshair shouts while banging on the door. Jolting his sergeant awake from his stupor. When he opens the door Cross raises an eyebrow. “You’ve seen better days.” He comments. He stands judgeful while Hunter tries to find the cleanest tunic.
“Would it kill you to not be a jackass for once?” He grunts, placing his hat on his head, hiding the bags under his eyes.
“You know, I think it might.” Crosshair says almost joyfully. “Plus I think it’s funny that the Aaray is so enamored with you of all people'' That makes Hunter stop.
“I’m not in the mood to entertain you today, Crosshair.” Hunter moves past his brother totally ignoring what he says next but all he can think about is if you really are enamored with him.
“Hunter?” Crosshair pokes at him when he doesn't respond. “Oh don’t tell me you actually feel something for her.” He is annoyed when he realises the look on Hunter's face.
“Watch your tone, Soldier.” Hunter gives a warning.
“How could you possibly have fallen for a woman that quickly.” Crosshair ignores the warning, throwing his hands into the air.
“I didn’t.” Hunter tells him firmly.
“Liar.” Crosshair counters angrily.
“I do not feel anything for that woman.” Not even Hunter can believe his own lies at this point. Crosshair rolls his eyes accordingly.
“So what’s your plan then Sarge? Run away with the girl of your dreams? Whisk her away from the treachery of Volim Nython and treat her properly for the rest of your days? Leave the only family you’ve ever had for some stuck up Coruscanti woman?” Crosshair is angry, he’s vulnerable, and it is not you he is mad at.
“My plan. Not that it is any of your business, is to take her to the Islands of Mustafar, and move on.” Hunter tells him slowly. Crosshair raises his eyebrows as if he’s surprised that Hunter’s idea was actually decent.
“Good plan.” He tells him, walking away as he adds: “Clean yourself up before Tech notices.”
Wrecker finds you curled in a mess of blankets on the floor, and it doesn't look comfortable at all. He hopes you won’t mind when he kneels down to pick you up, blankets and all, and lay you in his hammock. Even a few hours of sleeping nicely would do you good, he thinks to himself. The second he lifts you from the floor you rouse slightly.
“Hunter…?” You mumble, Wrecker can’t tell if you’re asking for the captain or wondering if that’s who is holding you.
“It’s just me Aaray, just wan’ you to sleep better.” Wrecker tells you.
“Than’you Wreck…” You don’t make much sense as you’re basically still asleep but he gets the message either way. Briefly he wonders if the four legged creature is around, and if she would be comforting to you, but as the feathered thing is nowhere to be seen, he leaves you to some much needed rest.
“Where’s the girl?” Echo asks, data pad in hand as he takes inventory of the ship.
“Still sleeping.” Wrecker answers, leaning over to try and snatch some food from the crate Echo was looking into. He scoffs at his bigger brother but decides to drop it for now.
“Tech, what's our estimated time of arrival?” He shouts up to where the man in questions is standing at the helm of the ship.
“My calculations suggest that we can reach Geonosis within the next day if these winds keep up.” Echo nods thoughtfully at that.
“I thought we were headed to the Mustafar islands?” Wrecker mumbles over a mouth full of bread.
“Someone ate all the food.” Tech and Echo snap silmontainsouly.
“Not that having an extra person on board helps.” Echo adds. “I mean really how’d you convince Hunter not to throw her overboard?”
“We call her Aaray, and it wasn't easy.” Tech tells him, watching Echo chuckle at the nickname.
“Does she know that you named her after our Mando’a word for pain?” He asks, punching more numbers into his data pad.
“No, and given the uh, incident yesterday, I’d prefer it if it was kept that way.” Tech tells him candidly.
“Situation report.” Comes a demanding voice, as Hunter walks up to join Tech at the helm of his ship. Nodding slightly as Tech fills him in before stepping aside to check the ties on the sails.
“Where’s the Aaray?” Crosshair asks, removing a toothpick from his mouth in favor of stealing some of Wreckers bread.
“Sleeping in my hammock.” Wrecker says, getting up to follow Tech to tell him to leave his ties alone.
“Well she did have an eventful day yesterday.” Echo says, filling the awkward pause.
“What information do we have on Corasanti presence in Geonosis?” Hunter asks, ignoring the mention of you entirely.
“I’ll fill you in.” Echo does his best not to sigh when he puts pressure on his aching limbs.
Much later, when you wake, you groan at just the thought of facing Hunter today. Why had he kissed you like that? Why did he leave you after? - Well, that much you knew the answer to. But why did kissing him feel so electrifying, why did it make you feel so dull to your surroundings but yet hypersensitive to everything at once. Why did he make you feel… alive? You don’t get long to sit alone with your thoughts.
“Dang Ferrik.” Echo drawls out in pain, leaning his head against the wall. You try and sit up in the massive hammock. But the cloth moves unexpectedly with the movement off the ship. By the time you right yourself you barely catch the fading blush on his hollow cheeks.
“Are you okay?” You ask, diverting attention away from your clumsy self. You watch him avert your eyes when you look at him. And so you gingerly step off of the hammock, careful not to fall, and make your way over to him.
“ ‘m fine.” He tries to tell you. Still using the wall of the room to hold most of his weight.
“Yeah,” you scoff, “I’ve heard that one before.” Out of habit you go to brush out your skirt, only to find pants in place of where it should lay. Instead you run your hands through each other.
“Are you a healer?” Echo asks skeptically, he’s had enough of doctors, healers, apothecaries and even witches try to fix him.
“Daughter of a drinker.” You explain, “I know that when someone staggers home and stumbles to tell me ‘they’re fine’, that it’s a lie.” You tell him unimpressed.
“I’m sorry.” He tells you earnestly. Watching as you shrug, and head over to him. It makes him nervous, he doesn't want you to notice what’s hurting, and he definitely does not want you seeing the injury.
“How can I help you?” You ask instead, and again, you shock him. He has to stop and think for a moment, no one has ever asked what he needs from them. It is always, ‘do this’ or ‘have you tried that?’
“I-I” He stutters, before shaking his head as if that’ll clear it. “Can you help me over to my bunk?” He hates asking for help, but it is better to ask you than have his brothers notice. You’re by his side in a flash, happy to actually be able to help around the ship for once.
“Of course,” You tell him with a genuine smile. Wrapping your arm around his middle, not missing how he tenses. Your other hand leads his arm around your shoulders, and draws calming patterns into his palm.
“Thank you,” Echo says, his voice has more depth up close, something akin to Hunter’s, but not quite the same. He hisses in pain after the first step, and it prompts you to try and take even more of his weight. He’s shockingly light. And you’re learning just how long the aftermath of the Techno Union lasts for. Through his grunts of pain, while walking you can hear a more mechanical sound. Something that doesn't fit with the normal noises of movement and the sea.
“Let’s just go with this.” Echo says, face displays pain. You’re not at his hammock yet, but at this point you don’t even know how’d you get him into his bed. And so you slide down the wall with him until you’re both sitting.
“What is causing the pain?” You ask, caringly pulling his head into your shoulder to run your hands in his thin hair. He jerks away when your fingertips make contact with the metal in his skull.
“Sorry,” He says, embarrassed at his own reactions. “It’s the leg, just doesn't want to co-operate today.” Echo only brings it up because he wants to change the subject and he doesn’t know what else to say.
When you look down you find one foot perched on the floor, encased in old leather and supporting itself. The other is laying on the floor like dead meat. Except it’s not meat at all, dark metal peaks past his pant leg and almost blends into the dark oak of the floor.
“Echo…” you say softly,
“That’s the seppies for ya.” He tells you all too nonshalontly.
“Seppies?” You ask confused, is that what replaced his leg?
“Separatists. Or officially The Confederacy of Independent Systems.” He explains to you. Watching as you nod in understanding.
“I’m starting to get why Hunter hates me so much.” You try to joke to defuse the situation. And it works from the small chuckle you get from the former ARC Trooper.
“Nah, Hunter’s always been like that. He had a stick in his ass long before you came along.” You cover the smile that forms at his words. When silence falls, you try and think of something else that will make him smile.
“Would you… like to see my impression of a sarlacc?” You ask, not being able to think of anything but this.
“I would absolutely like to see your impression of a sarlacc.” He tells you, opening his eyes from when he’d leaned back to block out the pain.
Very slowly you bring your hands to your face, palms facing out, and with fingers wiggling you make a small gross shrieking noise. Echo cringes at the noise, and the look of disgust stays on his face, even as you burst into laughter from how funny he looks.
“Your face!” You say between giggles.
“I hated it.” He tells you firmly.
“What are you talking about that was spot on.” You argue, “this is what they do!” You bring your hands up again, and he grabs them before you can start wiggling your fingers.
“Do not make that noise again.” He says, looking only half serious.
“What is going on?” You both turn at the sound of Hunter in the doorway. Echo’s hands still on your wrists, and the Sergeant looking none too impressed.
“Nothing.” Echo says, letting you go.
“Then back to your post, Tech needs help with the charts.” Hunter says to him, but looking at you. And Echo doesn’t miss the way you stare back, like you know some terrible secret that you can’t tell anyone.
“Aye, aye sarge.” He says to break the two of you apart. But when he goes to stand, his leg almost gives out from under him.
“Echo!” You gasp, scrambling to catch him, halfway between standing and falling to the floor. When you’ve finally righted him and yourself, Hunter speaks again.
“Alright Trooper up and at em.” He says, turning away.
“Can’t you see he’s injured?” You raise your voice at the Sergeant, and Echo’s not entirely convinced that he’s the only reason you’re angry.
“Is the state of my men your business?” Hunter counters. Glaring at you and Echo, and wondering if you had gone to him last night after your altercation.
“Evidently it’s not yours.” You say incredulously, and Echo takes this as his cue to leave. As Hunter is storming into the room now.
“You never know when to give it up, do you?” He asks slowly, side eyeing Echo limp from the room.
“At least I stand by what I say and do.” Hunter’s eye’s dash from the empty doorway up to you. Hurt makes itself known briefly, before being covered by anger.
“Stay away from my crew.” He tells you firmly. “And stay away from me.” Before he turns on his heel and leaves you alone, once again.
